After Five Years
by Marius Creb
Summary: An auish kind of fic based off of O. Henry's After Twenty Years. Ron and Harry finally decide to go their separate ways. How much can change between two brothers in five years?


After Five Years  
Original Story by O. Henry  
  
Retold by Jaken's Angel  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Outlaw Star or O. Henry's writings, nor do I claim to.

Author's Notes: I'm sorry if the language is a little hard to understand. This is based off of a story that was written in the 1800's. It was a lot of work to write this fic. I brought my literature book home and just typed up the story straight from the book, only changed the characters' names and descriptions. Enjoy. (reviews are appreciated)

The policeman on the beat moved up the avenue impressively. The impressiveness was habitual and not for show, for spectators were few. The time was barely 10 o'clock at night, but chilly gusts of wind with a taste of rain in them and well nigh depeopled the streets.  
  
Trying doors as he went, twirling his club with many intricate and artful movements, turning now and then to cast his watchful eye adown the pacific thoroughfare, the officer, with his stalwart form and slight swagger, made a fine picture of a guardian of the peace. The vicinity was one that kept early hours. Now and then you might see the lights of a drug store or of an all-night lunch counter; but the majority of the doors belonged to businesses that had long since been closed.  
  
When about midway of a certain block the policemen suddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway of a darkened hardware store a man leaned, with an unlighted cigarette in his mouth. As the policeman walked up to him the man spoke up quickly.  
  
"It's all right, officer," he said reassuringly. "I'm just waiting for my brother. It's an appointment made five years ago. Sounds a little funny to you, doesn't it? Well, I'll explain if you'd like to make certain that it's all straight. About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands-our favourite place to eat."  
  
"Until two years ago," said the policeman. "it was torn down then." The man in the doorway lit his lighter and brought it to his cigarette. The light showed a dark-skinned, square-jawed face with sharp eyes, and a long red scar across the left side of his lips. Around his neck hung a silver chain with a shining peace sign hooked to it.  
  
"Five years ago tonight," said the man, "I dined here at 'Clyde and Iris' Diner' with my brother Harry, who was also my best friend, and the best in the galaxy. He and I spent most of our time here on Heiphon, just like two brothers should, together. I was twenty- four and Harry was eighteen. The next morning I was to start for Earth to make my fortune larger. You couldn't have dragged Harry to Earth; he thought it had to have been the worst planet in the galaxy. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here in exactly five years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. We figured that in five years each of us ought to have our destiny worked out and our fortunes made, whatever they were going to be."  
  
"Its sounds pretty interesting," said the policeman. "Rather a long time between meets, though, it seems to me. Haven't you heard from your brother since you left?"  
  
"Well, yes, for a time we corresponded," said the man. "But after a month or two we lost track of each other. You see, Earth is a pretty big proposition, and I kept hustling around over it pretty lively. But I know Harry will meet me here if he's alive, for he always was the truest, the strangest young man that ever lived. He'll never forget. I came across two solar systems to stand in this door tonight, and it's worth it if my little brother shows up."  
  
The waiting man pulled out an expensive-looking watch, the lids of it made from dragonite.  
  
"Three minutes to ten," he announced. "It was exactly ten o'clock when we parted here at the restaurant door."  
  
"You did pretty well on Earth, didn't you?" asked the policeman.  
  
"Hell yeah! I hope Harry has done half as well. He was kind of freaky, though, good brother as he was. I've had to compete with some of the sharpest wits down on Earth. A man gets in a groove in Heiphon. It takes Earth to put a razor-edge on him."  
  
The policeman twirled his club and took a step or two.  
  
"I'll be on my way, then. Hope your brother shows up all right. Going to call time on him sharp?"  
  
"No way." The man said. "I'll give him half an hour at least. If Harry is alive he'll be here by that time. So long, officer."  
  
"Good-night, sir," said the policeman, passing on along his beat, trying doors as he went.  
  
There was now a fine, cold drizzle falling, and the wind had risen from its uncertain puffs into a steady blow. The few foot passengers astir in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat collars turned high and pocketed hands. And in the door of the hardware store the man who had come two solar systems to fill an appointment, uncertain almost to absurdity, with his younger brother, smoked his cigarettes and waited.  
  
About twenty minutes he waited, and then a tall man in a long cloak with a hood that covered his face, hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.  
  
"Is that you, Ron?" he asked, doubtfully.  
  
"Is that you, Harry Macdougall?" "Oh my god!" exclaimed the new arrival, grasping both the other's hands with his own. "It's Ron, I know it! I was certain I would find you here if you hadn't died. Well, well, well! Five years is a long time. The old restaurant's gone, Ron. I wish it had lasted, so we could have had another dinner there. How has Earth treated you, big brother?"  
  
"Excellent; it has given me everything I asked for so far. You've changed a lot, Harry. I never thought you were so tall by two or three inches."  
  
"Oh, I grew a little while I was in college."  
  
"Doing well on Heiphon, Harry?"  
  
"Moderately. I have a position in one of the city departments. Come on, Ron; we'll go around to a place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times."  
  
The two men started up the street, talking and laughing. The man from Earth, his egotism enlarged by success, was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other, submerged in his cloak, listened with interest.  
  
At the corner stood a drug store, brilliant with neon lights. When they came into this glare each of them turned in unison to look at each other, as they had not for so long.  
  
Ron stopped suddenly and narrowed his sharp, cinnamon shaded eyes, at the same time lowered his black eyebrows.  
  
"You're not Harry Macdougall," he snapped. "Five years is a long time, but not long enough to change a man's eyes from the vividest purple to a stabbing gray."  
  
"Sometimes it changes a good man to a bad one, or rather a bad one to a worse one. And in the case of your brother, a bad one to a good one," said the tall man, who, Ron now realized, was his enemy Gene Starwind. "You've been under arrest for ten minutes, Ron Macdougall! Centinal thinks you may have dropped over our way and wires us she wants to have a chat with you. Going quietly, are you? That's hellasenseful! Now, before I hand you into the authorities, here's a note I was asked to give you. Read it right here and make it quick. It's from your brother."  
  
Ron unfolded the little piece of paper that Gene handed to him. His hand was steady when he began to read, but it trembled a little when he had finished. The note was rather short.  
  
_Ron: I was at the appointed place on time. I was the policeman you conversed with by the old site of the diner. When you lit the lighter I saw the face of my older brother, the most wanted man in the galaxy. Somehow I couldn't arrest you myself, so I got Gene Starwind to do the job. _

_Harry _


End file.
